


It Seems Farther

by Worlds_Okayest_Goalie



Series: Bear With Me [3]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Animal Transformation, Fluff, Gen, Magic, Team as Family, Were-Creatures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:49:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29636976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Worlds_Okayest_Goalie/pseuds/Worlds_Okayest_Goalie
Summary: John knows Mario is weird. They were college roommates and teammates and John is intimately familiar with Mario’s brand of weird. All this to say, if John actually reaches the point of commenting on it, Mario’s reached new heights of weirdness.
Relationships: Mario Ferraro & John Leonard
Series: Bear With Me [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2173029
Comments: 23
Kudos: 73





	It Seems Farther

**Author's Note:**

> McSpot's version of this AU made me laugh, so I had to borrow a line and run with it. If you were wondering what Teal Dad #2 was doing in Toronto, away from all his bear cubs, wonder no longer!

John knows Mario is weird. They were college roommates and teammates and John is intimately familiar with Mario’s brand of weird. All this to say, if John actually reaches the point of commenting on it, Mario’s reached new heights of weirdness.

They lived together in college, which was fine, and John looked at apartment prices in San Jose for about ten minutes before he happily accepted Mario’s offer to cohabit. He figured it would be even easier to share a swanky downtown apartment than it was to share a single dorm room with an intermittently flickering lightbulb. 

And okay, it’s a weird year, but Mario plays tour guide well enough and some of the other guys are welcoming too. He doesn’t 100% remember Mario being shirtless in the winter quite this much, but since it stops arguments over the thermostat, John’s happy to just chalk that up to San Jose weather and Thornton’s influence. Everyone knows that dude doesn’t believe in shirts. 

John assumes Mario’s new strange focus on fresh fish is the reason he’s gotten all bulky over the summer. It’s not like John’s going to say no to a high protein diet, especially when Mario’s doing the lion’s share of the grocery shopping. 

So, John’s been patient. He doesn’t smother Mario with a pillow when Mario gets hyped about waking up extremely early for a run. He doesn’t mention that no matter how often they clean their kitchen there’s always a faint hint of baked fish. He doesn’t complain once when Mario asks him to drive miles and miles so he can film for a video. He doesn’t even say anything when he comes home and finds an entire pillow fort in their living room partially made of John’s sheets. He does what good bros do and climbs into the pillow fort to play Mario Kart until Mario is ready to be an adult again. It’s fine, it’s chill, and John can handle  _ that _ weird.

But the weird noises are starting to get to him a little. 

He knows Mario’s noises about as well as he knows what his own sisters sound like at this point. They lived together long enough that John can still echolocate Mario in a crowd based on the high-pitched noises he makes when he’s excited about something. 

He knows what Mario sounds like when he’s upending the fridge to make an enormous breakfast. He knows the muffled screaming noise Mario makes when he messes up the sixth take of a video. He knows what Mario sounds like when he’s calling his parents, his sisters, his cousins, Jumbo, or literally any of their college buddies; to be frank, if John isn’t talking to Mario face to face, he expects to hear Mario on FaceTime with someone.

But he also knows that the one time Mario is actually, completely silent is when he’s sleeping. He sleeps like the dead. So when John gets up at three am to get water and he hears some almost animalistic noises from Mario’s room, he’s vaguely concerned. Mario wouldn’t get some dog without mentioning it, surely. He’s an impulsive dork, but he’s also a compulsively chatty dork. He couldn’t possibly hide that he secretly wanted a dog. Mario’s door is locked and the noises stop, so John leaves it. But he pokes his head into Mario’s room in the morning just to see, just in case, when Mario goes to pick up the mail. There’s nothing. His room looks as exceptionally clean as always, bed made and electronics all tucked into their charging stations. 

It happens a few more times, but as soon as John walks towards Mario’s room the noises stop. He’s starting to wonder if he’s sleepwalking, if the noises are just a dream. None of the other guys seem to think anything is weird with Mario during daylight hours. 

***

As training camp starts, there’s so much else happening that John lets everything with Mario go. He’s not sure who put Stefan Noesen in charge of locker room music before practice, but he’s getting used to the endless parade of Disney music. The team gets weirdly hype for The Bare Necessities and it seems like John might need to learn the words to fit in. He’ll have to add it to his YouTube queue. 

He rotates through the lines as the coach tries things out and he gets used to a few different guys. They seem to like what he’s doing and, as always, just following Mario’s lead helps. Dude has the dedication and he’s always there to cheerlead when John would prefer not to do one last set of sprints. 

He’s a little less squirrely at a distance, like maybe all he needed was a breather, a distraction from living in such close quarters. Doesn’t make it fun to understand that, but John knows Mario did live alone last year and probably got used to having his own space. 

Arizona is warm enough that he mostly doesn’t mind stretching outside. They’re all spaced out through the hotel complex during the day, stick handling and doing cardio. It’s weird to suddenly be so disconnected from everyone after living in such close proximity with a teammate, but he still gets to see them in the halls or on the bus. Patty shares a couple burgers with him unexpectedly one day and John wonders what it would have been like to meet the team veterans in a normal year. He likes them, likes the team; if he can stay up, he’ll be happy.

***

He doesn’t, not really. He plays a couple games with the Cuda, which is fine. He understands that training and growth aren’t linear. 

COVID protocols are annoying as shit after Vegas and John spends a lot of time complaining on FaceTime to his sisters and to Mario and Gamby and Middsy. 

It’s a relief to be freed from that and brought back to San Jose with the Sharks. They say he’ll get to play, that he’s proven himself for now. 

It’s nice to sleep in his own bed and eat sushi with Mario and play some Chel. It would be nicer if Mario stopped opening his mouth like he was going to say something and then quietly closing it and shaking his head. John’s on the edge of his seat at this point, trying to figure out what the fuck Mario wants. There’s some gaping wasteland of communication stretching between them and it’s like an itch he can’t get rid of, gnawing at him.

Mario doesn’t stop, even when they get home after the Vegas loss, tossing their keys in the bowl by the door and flopping on the couch together. When Mario opens his mouth like a goldfish six times, then walks to the kitchen, turns around and then turns back to stare at the Brita pitcher, John’s had enough.

He sharply asks, “What?” 

Mario startles and turns to look at him, pivoting suddenly on the kitchen floor in his socked feet. “What?”

“You’re doing it again,” he groans. “With the pacing and sighing and the not saying something you clearly want to say. What’s up? Why are you being a weirdo?” He manages to choke back the  _ Do you want me to move out? _

Mario frowns at him. There’s a long, long silence and Mario looks down at the kitchen counter, picking at something. Without looking up, he asks, “Can you keep a secret?”

“What kind of question is that? We burying a body?” It’s instinctive. Distance or no, Mario’s his guy. 

Mario smiles a little at that and John can just see the corners of his mouth with his head ducked. He shakes his head. “No, I just...”

“Oh come on, I never told anyone about freshmen Halloween, did I?”

“No, no, don’t remind me,” Mario says hastily.

“So what’s the big secret, dude?”

“I can’t tell you,” Mario starts, powering through John’s answering groan. “But I can show you tomorrow. After practice.”

“And then you’ll stop being weird,” John says, pointing at Mario warningly.

“Oh fuck you, you’re weird,” Mario says, abandoning whatever he was doing in the kitchen to wrestle John off the couch. 

***

John tries not to speculate out loud during the drive in, but he’s still thinking about it. He can’t imagine what secret Mario could have that he could show not tell. 

He doesn’t miss the way Mario beelines to Patty during practice, looping around him and talking incessantly until Patty uses the flat of his stick to shove Mario back over to work with Eddie and Karl. 

John sidles up to Patty during line drills, just to see if he can weasel something out of him. “Do you know why Mario’s being all secretive?”

Patty just raises an eyebrow. “He said he’ll show you everything after practice, didn’t he? Stay focused,” he says gently, tapping John in the shins. 

It’s hard to bear a grudge against Patty, especially when their line scores in practice. Patty nods approvingly at him and he can’t help his answering grin in return. 

He has to help Knyz pick up pucks, so he’s pretty much last into the showers, but Mario doesn’t look impatient where he’s waiting in his stall. It’s all weird with everyone spaced out and masked up, but there’s a routine to it like everything else. Almost everyone is gone by the time he’s ready, scooping up his bag and then walking over to Mario.

Mario tucks his phone into his pocket. “Ready?”

“I guess? Do I need to be prepared in some way?”

“Nah,” Mario says, more relaxed than he’s been in days. “Come on.”

He follows Mario down the halls, into the back offices. “Is your secret a conference room? I could go for a nap in a conference room.” He’s thinking about lunch and then a nap and then maybe a walk to the park. The weather outside is nice.

“Okay,” Mario says, pausing at the corner of a hallway intersection. “I have something to show you and you can’t talk about it to Coach or the GM or anyone like that.” He waits, looking stiff. 

“I’m back to the dead body theory, Mar.”

Mario rolls his eyes, which seems patently unfair after all of Mario’s secrecy. “We have a place,” Mario continues, looking serious. “We can get together. But you can’t tell anyone.”

“Is that safe?” John’s not crazy germaphobic, but he also doesn’t want to get scratched for doing something dumb.

Mario’s shoulders drop and he relaxes. “We have cleared it with literally any med staff you could imagine. But we do have to be careful about new guys, so that’s why Nietsy can join us whenever, but Rudy has to wait. We’re trying to bring in one of you at a time and I vouched for you.”

“Oh, well in that case,” John snorts. “Lead the way.” Mario knows what he means, understands that he’s a little touched that Mario insisted on trusting him. 

Mario punches him in the shoulder. “Leave your shit in the hallway. You can just put your mask in your pocket or whatever.”

When they turn the corner there’s a decent pile of gear and John just leans his bag on the edge of the black and teal heap. Looks like most of the team must be here and he can’t imagine how that’s safe or allowed, but he trusts Mario if he says it’s okay.

“Alright,” Mario says, taking a deep breath. “Come say hi to the guys.” He pushes the door open and John follows him.

He stands there in the doorway, hands on his hips, for a long moment. “Mario,” he starts, slightly strangled. “These are bears.”

Mario nods in the low-light. Some of the bears are watching them, but many are sleeping. “Leno, say hi.”

“Hi, bears?” 

“Burnzie,” Mario calls and a large bear in the back stretches up. Somehow as it stands, it turns into a nude Brent Burns, which is several shocks at once. He steps over several smaller bears lying in front of him and then sinks back down and there’s a bear standing at Mario’s elbow, blinking at John. “See? The guys can all hang out like this because Burnzie checked with four different animal handlers about the risk to animals. But we can’t have multiple guys as humans here without pissing off the trainers or team docs. You and I live together unmasked obviously, so we figured we could bring you in.”

John nods. He blinks back at the bear and nods again. Brent Burns is a bear. Many Sharks are bears. He wants to pet a bear. “Okay, okay, when we get home, I have so many questions, but this is sick, dude! Can I touch them or should I keep my distance?”

Burnzie ambles up and whuffles into John’s hoodie. “You should scratch behind his ears,” Mario advises. John reaches out and sinks his hand into the thick fur, scratching tentatively at first and then more confidently as Burnzie pushes his head up. 

“How do you tell who’s who?”

“Practice,” Mario says distractedly, stripping his shirt off. “Can you shut the door?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks,” Mario says, and then he vanishes. John jumps slightly and then sees the bear cub. “Oh you have so much you have to explain tonight. Also, you’re buying dinner, dumbass.”

Mario stomps his little paws and then takes a flying leap into a pile of bears who all grumble, but let him scramble across their backs.

John shuts the door and turns around to find Burnzie sitting like the world's biggest teddy bear. “Hey, buddy.” 

Burnzie tilts his head and reaches out with one big paw to delicately snag his claws in John’s hoodie pocket and pull him forward. 

“Hey, you’re lucky this is just team gear,” John scolds. “Don’t poke holes. If you want more ear rubs, scoot out of the way so I can sit down.”

Burnzie obligingly shuffles aside. It’s only when John sits down on one of the firm mats that he realizes his error. He’s the only one with opposable thumbs in a room full of ears in need of patting. There’s a bevy of bright eyes circling around him hopefully. 

“Alright,” he says pragmatically, “I’ve only got two hands. Make a line.” He wiggles his fingers pointedly and he’s not surprised at all when Burnzie manages to elbow his way to the front. The bear who claims John’s other side is unidentifiable, but John is just as happy to play with those bear ears too. 

***

At home, John makes Mario order sushi  _ and _ go pick it up  _ and _ set the table. It seems fair after Mario sprang bear teammates on him.

“So,” he starts, halfway through an order of California Rolls, “bears? Why not sharks?”

“Jumbo,” Mario says mournfully. He’s got a whole thing about Joe Thornton and while John is not above teasing him for his hero worship occasionally, he also respects Thornton and his willingness to FaceTime Mario a minimum of three times a week.

“Jumbo?” 

“So it’s a thing with Bruins captains. They’re cursed to be bears when they’re emotional.” Mario waves his hand. “It’s contagious. Or Joe was contagious. I can’t make you a bear.”

“But Jumbo’s why you’re a bear?”

“Sometimes a bear. Like...part-time.”

“And you have a whole secret room in the practice rink but I can’t say anything to Coach?”

“Also a room in the Tank! We try to do maintenance, especially at S4A, but the janitors in the building also replace the mats sometimes. I think they assume we have some kind of fight club.”

“But the coaches don’t know? How could they not notice?”

“Well,” Mario purses his mouth, “Bob doesn’t know. Patty says that Bruins management sucked. And then when Joe came here and started making people into bears, the Sharks management didn’t take that well either. That’s why he lost the captaincy,” Mario says, gesturing with his chopsticks. “So we politely pretend that the only bears are the old guys like Patty or Eddie and management politely ignores everything else.”

“Got it. First rule of bear club: don’t talk about bear club.”

Mario stares him down across the table, but John can tell he’s trying not to laugh. “Anyway...if you have to, find Nabby.”

“Why would I have to? Wait, also why Nabby?”

“Well, first, the bear runs on instinct. So sometimes if you have the only human brain in the room, you might have to redirect a curious bear who gets distracted. They’re usually pretty chill, so it’s not a big deal. And if you need someone in charge? Nabby’s also a bear.”

“What? Why?”

“He and Joe played together,” Mario explains impatiently. “He’s been a bear forever.”

“Oh. Damn. So there are bears everywhere. Like any guy who played on the Sharks long enough.”

“That’s what I hear,” Mario agrees. “None on the Leafs though and Patty says there won’t be.”

“Mmmmm, COVID protocols are also kind of bear protocols, huh?”

“Yep. Plus, Patty says new cubs are easier with other adults to help and Jumbo’s alone. He’s been pretty cranky on IR all by himself so we’re trying to call him lots. I helped him set up a bear WhatsApp system this summer so he can call us when he’s in his den and we can spend time with him. We’re probably going to call him tomorrow after the game.”

“Last question,” John says, gathering their containers and napkins to toss in the trash, “does being housemates mean I get bear cub cuddling privileges?”

Mario laughs, bright and loud. “Not only do you  _ get  _ to hug me, you’re required to meet daily hug minimums.”

“Somehow, I’ll survive having a real teddy bear,” John says dryly, using his free hand to mess with Mario’s curls.

***

They win against the Ducks and John scores which is fucking exhilarating. It’s off a pass from Mario too, which is even better. They’re back in sync and Mario’s not being all squirrelly and the team feels so fucking good.

He does his postgame interview and showers. Now that he knows what to watch for, he sees who lingers behind and who leaves immediately. There’s a stupid sense of satisfaction that comes with being in the know. They picked him; he knows it’s mostly because he lives with Mario, but they picked him and he’s going to work just as hard off the ice as on it to prove they were right about him.

He catches Mario and tells him he’ll meet him in the den in just a bit. Mario looks confused, but he gets distracted by Tommy and it’s easy to slip out of the room.

He winds his way through the halls to find Nabby in front of the dinky closet Nabby showed him before the game.

Even with a mask on, he can tell Nabby is grinning. 

“All ready?” He jogs in place, still full of adrenaline.

Nabby nods and unlocks the door. “Help me with these.” John joins him in taking the buckets out of the big cooler plugged into the wall and stacking them on one of the big rolling carts. Nabby unplugs the cooler and locks the closet behind them. They each take a handle on opposite ends of the cart and navigate the halls. 

Mario’s still waiting outside the door when they roll up. “I was starting to think you’d gotten lost. What’s all this?”

“A surprise,” John says, shooing Mario ahead of him. “Nabby, you joining us?”

“Yes. You want help with this?”

“Nah, I’ve got it.”

Nabby slips his mask off and starts piling his clothes up. Mario holds open the door for John and the cart. As soon as John clears the doorway and turns around, a large bear slowly plods into the room. Nabby sits expectantly by the door, since he knows what John’s surprise is.

The room is a little different from one at the practice rink. There’s a section of padding on the wall that’s been removed and there’s a screen showing a bear in a room with some piles of fish and a tire. 

The bear on the screen looks into the camera and John can hear it making noises. 

“Hi, Jumbo,” Mario says cheerfully. He waves and the bear slowly raises a paw to mirror him.

“Is this what you meant by bear WhatsApp?”

“Yeah, shatterproof glass over a tv hooked up to a spare phone and a power supply. It keeps him from getting too lonely if he can see and hear us.” Some of the other big bears are watching the screen and John assumes there’s nonverbal communication happening there, some form of bear friendship.

“That’s really smart,” John says thoughtfully. Mario grins at him, all loose and happy. John starts setting the buckets out in a line and then shoves the cart back outside and shuts the door. “Alright, bears, surprise! Nabby helped me organize a victory snack.”

It could quite easily have also been a consolation prize after a loss, but this is even better. John had to do some hasty texting to arrange this, but the fact that Nabby “knows a guy” certainly helped him along. He gets the feeling Nabby has a guy for everything and berries are probably the least of it. 

He makes quick work of the bucket lids and there’s a chorus of excited bear noises as they all hurry over. He smartly steps aside as they jostle for position. He spots Mario at the end, trying to climb into the bucket and excavates him quickly from the berries.

“Bud, come on, you can’t sit in the food.”

Mario wriggles indignantly until John drags the bucket over, sits down, and offers him handfuls of his own. One of the other small bears follows them, just to get a fair chance at the berries. He doesn’t protest John digging under his nose for a handful of berries, so John makes sure he pats him on the head appreciatively. When Mario is completely glutted on berries, he flops across John with a dramatic sigh and lets one of the large bears come over and lick his head thoroughly. One of them tries to lick John’s head too, but he shoves them off after the first attempt. “No. Uh uh. Lick Mario, not me.”

Mario snores obliviously, unaware of just how hard and fast John is willing to throw him under that particular bus. Though the bear that tries to lick him gives him big sad eyes like he betrayed it for not letting it spread berry juice in his hair, it does settle down next to him. 

A bear that John is pretty sure must be Patty comes over to nose at him and Mario, checking in.

“We’re good,” he says quietly. “So good.”

The bear sniffs his hair and goes back to the big screen. 

Mario rolls over in his lap and John plays with his paw pads while he sleeps. This is the best reward in the whole NHL for a first goal. He bets Cale never had this much fun.

**Author's Note:**

> Some important facts, not otherwise revealed:  
> -Cale is not, in fact having this much fun, because The Donfather has not revealed this particular secret.  
> -Nabby does have a guy for everything. His berry guy is the least weird one.  
> -Joe has a giant blue button (because bears see the color blue very well) in his den to press that automatically calls the Sharks group WhatsApp and someone always picks up to say hi to their Bear Dad. Mario spent time at Joe's in the summer, alternately working on wiring the den for WhatsApp calling (as a human) and working on how far he could get up a tree before Joe noticed (as a cub).


End file.
